


Not Alone

by Tiniestgay



Category: Wicked - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, F/F, based off the last of us, but also angsty, very very gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:42:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26720851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiniestgay/pseuds/Tiniestgay
Summary: Killing to survive is not an easy way to live. Neither is constantly being on the run. But after an infection spreads throughout Oz, there's not much more they can do. Elphaba lost hope a long time ago, but wills themselves to fight for their friends despite regretting that day 10 years ago.
Relationships: Elphaba Thropp/Galinda Upland
Comments: 13
Kudos: 18





	1. 10 Years Ago - Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all. So I adored The Last of Us 2 and I really love gelphie and i thought...apocalypse au! This is rated mature because i do plan on gore and violence being included in this fic. As well as some heavy themes which i will def write warnings for at the beginnings of chapters. But otherwise here we go my friends!

They ran. 

They ran as fast and far as their legs would allow. Their chest heaving as the world around them was reduced to chaos. 

All they could hear were the screams. The shrieks from those who had been caught and torn to shreds. There was nothing they could do. 

They wanted to turn back, to follow Glinda where they got separated but they were chased by those...those  _ things.  _ And if diverting the course of these demons meant keeping Glinda alive despite their inevitable doom, it was worth it. Elphaba would do anything to keep her safe.

Their legs were aching, their chest was burning and everything in them wanted to give up. This was useless. The groans from the people behind them were excruciating. They were sick. Inflicted with some kind of infection and Elphaba was not keen on letting that happen to them.

But they were tired. Their thoughts wandered to Glinda once more and they gritted their teeth. They should have fought to reach her and protect her. And now they didn't even know if she was alive. 

_ Fuck.  _

They felt sick. The thought of Glinda laying defenseless and bloodied made their chest hurt as their pace slowed. 

They fell to their knees. Trying to catch their breath, Elphaba placed two fingers on their neck and counted their pulse. But it wasn’t enough. Their vision blurred as the groans came closer and they knew it was over. 

Gunshots echoed around them and everything went dark. 


	2. A Simple Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just to refresh people or explain if you don't already know this, in the last of us the Infected are classified under different categories based on how far along in the Infection process they are! The Infection is a fungal one, so to say it in a simple way, their bodies begin growing fungus and releasing spores (which are poisonous and if you breathe them in you become infected) 
> 
> So in here I bring up Clickers. Clickers are one of the later stages on infection. Fungus is all around their body and grows out of their head which renders the Infected person completely blind. The term "Clicker" comes from the fact that they make a clicking noise which is essentially for echolocation since they can't see. It's pretty terrifying hahah but i hope that makes some sort of sense? And if you'd like you can google it and see what they look like! Anyways that's all! Hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Elphaba woke to the sound of faint, relentless beeping. They groaned and smacked the old alarm clock on their nightstand. 

The sun was beginning to rise and peak through the makeshift curtain Elphaba set up. It was an old sweater from their time at Shiz. 

They rubbed their eyes and reluctantly got out of bed but winced as they walked towards their bathroom. Their body was aching from the day before. 

Crope and Tibbett convinced them to come along on their patrol, which had been riddled with Clickers. Most of the time was spent crouching and crawling through spaces in attempts to be as quiet as possible. Apparently Elphaba’s legs did not approve. 

They slowly got ready for the day and made their way to a small building a block away from their home. People greeted them with a warm smile as they walked into the lobby. 

“Goodmorning Yackle.” 

“Goodmorning Elphaba. There’s someone waiting for you in the other room.” 

They raised an eyebrow as they walked towards the open door beside the reception desk. “Already? Who’s already– oh.” 

They moved towards the patient and shook their head with a smile. 

“Really Boq? Again?” They asked. 

He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “I’m not made for fighting.” 

“Clearly not. Too bad there’s an apocalypse, huh?” 

He rolled his eyes. “Can you patch this up or not?” 

“Obviously I can.”

Elphaba observed the gash above his collarbone. They immediately got to work with the materials they’ve managed to scavenge. 

“How did this even happen?” They asked a few minutes later.

He snickered and shook his head. “Let’s just say I do not fare well handling a sword.” 

Elphaba snorted. They finished the last touches and gave him a pat on the head. 

“Next time don’t handle weapons that are double your size.” 

He smacked their arm. “Shut up!” 

The door swung open suddenly and a tall, dark skinned man with a scar along his neck walked in. 

“Oh hey Fiyero,” Boq said. 

“How’s our little man doing?” Fiyero asked in a baby voice. 

Boq burrowed his face in his hands as Elphaba cackled. 

“He’s fine but try to give him a dagger next time,” Elphaba said. 

Fiyero patted Boq on the back lightly and smiled bright. “I promise I’ll give him something his size.” 

Elphaba put away the medical supplies and was about to reply, when they noticed an elderly woman approaching from outside. 

“Shit,” they muttered. “Sorry, gotta run. Another patient.” 

They scurried through the door and moved to the lobby to greet the woman. They ushered her into an exam room and performed a routine check. 

This was how most of their days went. They served as a medical practitioner for the small town. Day after day they took care of vulnerable groups and attended to people’s wounds. 

They found comfort in the job, despite the destruction of the world around them. It was a simple life after fighting to survive following the outbreak. 

They were a damn good shot, too. They knew how to kill. But after years of combat and stealth, they returned to their passion. Elphaba had been studying medicine before Outbreak Day. They took to reading books day and night when they knew for sure they were safe here. In a small town on the outskirts of the Emerald City, they found a place to rest. It wasn’t huge, but it was enough to stay alive. 

If it wasn’t for Fiyero and Boq, they wouldn’t be here. That day, Elphaba was certain they were going to die, but Fiyero had managed to kill the Infected nearing them. At least that’s what Boq told.

The trio found their way to the small town and, after a check for bite marks, were offered refuge. Their connection to Crope and Tibbett helped too. They both were established citizens and this earned Elphaba, Boq, and Fiyero their places. 

Elphaba was grateful for the position they were in. They really were! But as they finished with their last patient of the morning, they eyed a small paper on their desk with the words ‘ _ you’re beautiful _ ’ written in cursive. A small faded, dry pink flower was taped to the corner. 

Elphaba constantly thought about what they could have done differently that day. 

Glinda was supposed to be with them, and this silly note was all they had left. Over the years, hope faded away. For a good while, they tried to find her. It’s why they signed up for patrols in the first place, but to no avail. Oz had become an abandoned wasteland. And finding people alive often meant fighting for your life. 

They sighed and rubbed their face. As they moved to grab their notes from the day, the door to the office flew open. 

“Grab your gun,” Fiyero said urgently. “We’re under attack.” 


End file.
